You're Not Worth It
by MsVonnegut
Summary: Rory, with the help of some alcohol, shares some down-home truths with Logan.


**You're Not Worth It**

by MsVonnegut

**Summary: **Rory, with the help of some alcohol, shares some down-home truths with Logan.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Whoa there, Ace, careful."

Logan wasn't sure how many shots Rory'd had before he got there, but in the last two hours she had downed several tequilas and a few beers. The Pub had been full of students celebrating the start of the summer break, and now it was close to 1am and he was helping the thoroughly sloshed girl back to her dorm.

"I'm fine, Logan...better than fine actually, I'm great. Whoops." He looked over to see her leaning against the wall she had just walked into. "Huh. I think there might be a solid object there." Her own words of wisdom sent her off into a storm of giggles.

"Why is your dorm room unlocked?" Logan asked her as he turned the knob. "That's dangerous, you know." He grinned at her. "Never know what kind of crazy guys might be wandering around."

She looked at him for a moment. "Actually, the crazy guys usually seem to come in through the window." She stumbled through her doorway and collapsed onto the couch. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you. You can break into my dorm anytime."

"That's very generous of you, Ace...although I suspect your motives are less than charitable." He wandered over to the refrigerator to look for a drink. Tonight had been his turn as the designated sober host, so his alcohol intake had been severely limited. A mumbled reply from behind him caught his attention. "What was that?" he asked, opening a Coors.

"I said you've got a cute ass." Logan nearly spit out his drink. "Oh, don't look so shocked. I've told you before that I think you're gorgeous." Rory looked up at him. "And at the moment, I've got three of you to look at."

Logan looked down at the brunette sprawled on her back and felt an odd twist in his gut. "I'm not sure you've ever put it quite like that before, but yes, our physical attraction to each other is well-established." He paused for a moment, staring at the girl before him, before suddenly deciding to share something that had been bothering him all night.

"You seemed to like Ian." Finn's cousin had been visiting from Harvard, and had bonded quickly with Rory. "Spent quite a bit of time talking to him."

"Mmmhmm. Nice guy, and sooo funny!" She trailed off in a fit of giggles. "He gonna stick around long?"

"I'm not sure." He took a deep breath, then sat on the armchair next to the couch. "To tell you the truth, Ace...I got a little jealous."

Rory was still giggling. "Of Ian? What, just 'cause he knows more White Stripes lyrics than you do?" Even while getting plastered, Rory and Ian had led the group in a game of Name That Tune. "Relax, Logan. You can still get caught up."

"I was jealous because he got to spend so much time talking to you, Rory." Logan replied quietly. "I got jealous a few days ago when you spent an evening watching movies with Mark. And before that, when Finn convinced you to dance with him at that nightclub." Rory was looking at him now, confusion and something else warring on her features. Logan pressed on.

"I've never stuck with a girl this long before. We're not exclusive, and I've taken advantage of that, but when I see you with other guys, I—I don't like it, Rory. I don't like it at all." He looked at her.

Rory sat up, looking somewhat less intoxicated and more awake. "Logan..." she started, then trailed off. She took a deep breath and tried again. "I've noticed your change in attitude, but haven't said anything. Now that you've brought it up, though...you do seem to be developing a possessive streak."

"A possessive streak, huh?" Logan thought about it. "Is there a chance that we could—I mean" he stopped. What was wrong with him? This was a difficult topic, sure, but he wasn't the one who was drunk—shouldn't he be able to string together some complete sentences? She looked like she was about to say something, but he cut her off.

"I've tried dropping hints, Rory. I've been subtly suggesting it for a while now, but you've ignored it, so here goes a blunt approach...Are you interested in a relationship with strings?" There. He'd said it.

"No."

What?

"What?"

"No, Logan, I'm not." Rory, now looking very alert, spoke forcefully. "What we have is fun, and I like it. At one point, a few months ago maybe, I might have had a different answer, but now...no."

Logan could feel himself trembling. Was she actually saying no? "Why not?" he demanded.

"Look, Logan...I like you. You're cute, you're fun, you can keep up with me in a conversation. But a relationship—a real one, beyond sex and hanging out in groups—a real relationship just isn't in the cards for us." She looked at him with some pity in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Logan; but no, we can't."

"Ace..." he gaped at her, shocked. "Don't you want a real relationship? A boyfriend?"

"Maybe...but I don't want a real relationship with you." The matter-of-fact tone she used sliced through him.

"What!" He was incredulous. "Why not me?"

She sighed. "Logan"

"No, Rory. Tell me: why not me?" What was wrong with him? Hadn't she just said she liked him? Rory just looked at him for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "Why?" he demanded again.

"You're not worth it," she finally said, the quiet words hitting him with all the force of a ten ton truck. "You're good-looking, and you're entertaining, but a relationship takes work. A relationship requires both parties to be willing to get upset sometimes, and be angry sometimes, but still be willing to work it out.

"A relationship requires that both people be willing to work through the crap because they each believe that the other is worth it. And I'm sorry Logan, but you're not worth it. Not to me."

Logan felt a bitter chuckle escape his throat. "I'm not, huh? Gee, Rory, thanks a lot."

"It's not your fault, Logan. You can't help but be who you are."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You can't help but be Logan Huntzberger. You don't have to put effort into anything, so you don't—you let your money or your social standing do all the work for you. You are so deep into the culture of tuxedos and champaign that you can't appreciate jeans and a milkshake. You're not a bad person, Logan, you just—you don't have much depth."

He was angry, now. "So because my family has money, I'm just a shallow, spoiled rich boy, huh? I'm not"

"No, Logan!" she shouted. "Your money has nothing to do with it. Well," she amended, "almost nothing to do with it. God." She stood up, mostly steady on her feet, and went to grab an aspirin. "Right now, you're an okay guy. You can be a real jerk sometimes, but nothing too horrible." She gulped down the painkiller.

"But someday soon, you're gonna change. The Hartford society you're a part of is going to swallow any easy-going, truly nice part of your personality. You'll meet a girl who is willing to host dinner parties and put up with your long, work-related absences from home. She'll think you're perfect—cute, rich, the right social circle. Your parents will all be thrilled, and they'll set you up in a nice house with a job that'll put you on track to take over your father's company."

Logan listened to her description, wanting to scream at her, wanting to make her take it all back. But he couldn't—it sounded frighteningly true.

"The two of you will have a kid. Maybe even two kids. You'll raise them to be just like you, and prepare one of them to take over for you eventually." She paused briefly, then went on. "You're already well on your way to becoming a stereotypical Hartford socialite, Logan, and I want no part of that."

"Neither do I." His hoarse voice seemed to startle both of them. "I don't want to be my father, Rory. I won't be."

She smiled sadly at him. "Yes, you will." She kept going right over his protest. "You don't think right now that you want to be him. But you will be, Logan, because you don't have it in you to be anything else." She laughed mirthlessly. "God knows I wish you did. I wanted you to, in the beginning—I wanted you to prove me wrong about you. But over these past few months, Logan, I've accepted it. That's what you'll be, because you can't be anything else."

They sat silently for a moment until she continued. "But cheer up, it'll be okay. By the time you have become that person completely, it won't bother you. You'll welcome it."

Logan snorted. "I don't think so, Ace."

Rory smiled lightly. "Yes, you will, Logan. That's also a part of who you are." Then she sighed and moved to pull him into a standing position. "Meanwhile, I'd like to enjoy time spent with you while you're still rebelling against yourself." She placed a small kiss on the side of his mouth. "If you don't want to be around me anymore, I understand. But if you do..." she trailed off.

Logan looked down at her. She was beautifuland she was still drunk. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ace. You go ahead and sleep off that tequila."

She giggled, the temporary semi-sobriety deserting her. "Okay. I'll see you, Logan."

He watched as she walked into her room. "Yeah," he said softly after she was gone, "you'll see me...better than anyone else, you'll see me." He turned towards the hall, carefully locking the door behind him, and set off towards his own dorm.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Well, there it is. There seems to be something off about this fic, but I can't quite tell what it is. Please review and tell me—even flames are welcome, as long as they are specific.


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